


How to care for your (half) demon

by LetheSomething



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Awkward Romance, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, dad fic, how i deal with the ending to DMC5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-02-09 07:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetheSomething/pseuds/LetheSomething
Summary: A series of fluffy shorts featuring everyone's favourite demon hunting dork.





	1. Secret dance move unlocked

His hips sway, left, right, left, right as he hums along to the tune playing on the jukebox.  
Your lips quirk into an amused little smile while you sip coffee and try not to stare too hard. There’s a distinct little tilt in his hip when he takes a step that you’ve always found intriguing, but lingering on it too long will do you no good.  
He shakes his shoulders and turns to give you one of his self-satisfied grins.

“Having fun?” you say over your coffee mug.

“Mmhmm”, he hums, halfway through a little two-step. “Why don’t you come join me.”

“Dante, you know I don’t dance”, you pout.

“Sure you do.”  
Piercing blue eyes look up at you behind curtains of white and he stretches out an arm, fingers beckoning like he just challenged you to a duel.

You sigh.  
He raises an eyebrow, rolls his hips and spreads his arms.  
“Come on!”

“Oh fine”, you say, and jump down from the counter to walk up to him, “but do you even know how to -whoah!”  
A strong arm grabs your waist and you feel yourself pulled along into a perfect half turn.

“Gotta hold on”, he grins in your ear.

Giggling, you lay your arms around his neck and sway along.  
“This is new,” you smile. “I didn’t know you could, uh… whatever this dance is.”

“I’m just full of surprises,” he says, as he takes two steps forward, one step back, and effortlessly leads you into a twirl before pulling you close again.

The whole scene feels like it belongs in an ad for wood panel flooring. Or one of the sappy ones that try to sell you home loans.  
It feels normal, so unlike anything that has happened in the last few weeks, and it makes you nervous.  
“Dante…”

 

He doesn’t look at you, seemingly too busy concentrating on his feet while he breaks into another set of steps and half turns

You twist your body, spinning full circle before you drop into his arms, and stay there, swaying slightly.

“You know I love ya, right?”  
He says it almost casually, a small comment in a sea of beats and musical notes.

“What?”

“Have for a while”, he hums, pulling your waist into a half-turn. “I figured you’d know by now.”

“Dante.”  
The music keeps playing but you resist the flow, become the rock breaking the waves.  
“Whatever happened to ‘I’m not boyfriend material’?” you say.  
It comes out as a huff, you notice, a painful break in your voice that was there when you first confessed to him as well, so many ages ago.

He shrugs, and it angers you how relaxed he appears by this whole situation.  
“That was then. I had a bunch of trouble to deal with, you know. Murderous twins, demon blood, that whole apocalypse thing. Didn’t really wanna drag you into all that.”

You frown, tilt your head.  
“And you do now?”

“I mean…”  
He looks at you with a lopsided grin.  
“It’s under control now… mostly. Vergil’s always gonna be an asshole, but we’ve aired out some of our difficulties.”

“You beat each other to a bloody pulp!”

“Yeah,” he nods, “that helped a lot.”

“Are you fucking…” You start, before you falter and take a step back to rub your temples.  
“Dante, I-”

You look up and he’s standing there, sheepishly patting the back of his neck. He strikes a figure decidedly human, almost fragile. Too small for a man as vibrant and larger than life as he.

“Look”, he says and he folds his arms, trains his gaze to the flickering lights of the jukebox. “Spending some time in hell, it got me thinking… about things.”  
He holds up his hand. “And before you say it, yes, that hurt. More than the beating I gave my dumbass brother.”  
You can’t help a grin from forming on your lips, and he draws himself up, squares his shoulders before continuing.  
“I figure, you stuck around this long. You can probably handle the bullshit and the weirdo’s and all that.”  
He turns to you and you quirk your eyebrow.  
“Besides,” he says, “Kyrie manages to stay safe just fine, and if the boy can do it, I would definitely…”

 

The record stops and silence fills the room, the two of you standing there, suspended in time.

“So what do you say?”  
He opens his arms, smirks in a way that he knows you can’t say no to.

So you don’t.


	2. Nutrition in hell

“Babe, what’s this?”  
Dante lifts the plate curiously, a look of disgust on his face that is not even seen by empusa in the seconds before their death.

“Dinner, hun”, you say patiently, filling up a second batch. “It’s pita bread. I figured we’d try something else, and this is close enough to pizza.”

“Whatever you say”, he hums, shaking his head as he plops onto the kitchen chair to poke at the parcel in front of him.   
His face falls. “Damn, you hid a ton of vegetables in there.”

“They’re not hiding, they’re part of the dish”, you say and you take you plate to the table.

He shrugs and grabs the bread envelope with both hands, lifting it up as if to find some deeper wisdom underneath.   
“How is this supposed to be pizza again?”

“It’s bread”, you point out. “And there’s cheese.”

A chuckle.   
“Is it hiding underneath the vegetables or something?” he asks.

“Yes darling”, you say, and you take a bite out of your own.  
“Mmmm, these came out great!” You happily munch your food, exaggerating maybe just a little, as Dante watches in amusement.

Then he leans back, one elbow over the back of the chair and tilts his head.  
“So what’s this about?” he says, just as you attempt to take another bite.   
“You’ve never tried to feed me health food before.”

You stop, look across the table at the man whose continued wellbeing has instilled fear and worry in your heart for sustained periods of time ever since you two met. The events that keep unfolding around you inspire a helplessness you have trouble putting into words.  
But there he is, somehow still alive, seemingly without a care in the world.  
Smiling. Right here across the table.

You take a deep breath.  
“Pizza has very little nutritional value,” you say.  
He quirks an eyebrow at you.  
“I’m just saying… You were stuck in hell for weeks on end. It would probably do well to take care of your body a little. Humans need vitamins, you know.”

He huffs.   
“I am in peak physical condition, babe”, he says, and he throws you a smirk that could melt the last of the icecaps all by itself.   
“Certainly heard no complaints from you last night.”

“Well,” you cough. “That’s certainly, um, true. But also, you’re a forty year old man. Just eat the damn vegetables? Please?”  
You pout and his shoulder sag, resigned.  
He takes a bite and under your watchful eye there is a moment, just a flicker, of delight, before he manages to get a hold of himself.   
He frowns grumpily as he chews, but he finishes the bread long before you.  
“So?” you say, lifting your eyebrows. “Good?”

“It’s ok, I guess”, he shrugs. “Wouldn’t mind another one, even.”  
He leans forward across the table and waggles his eyebrows. “Then maybe we’ll see if my physical condition has improved, eh?”


	3. Surprisingly human

"Oh my god, no."   
You stormed into the room where you saw your child, almost old enough for kindergarten, reach its tiny, stubby fingers out towards the giant, multifanged blade of the Devil Sword Sparda. You scooped up the boy and glared unserrated, but definitely deadly, daggers at Dante, currently sitting on the floor surrounded by weaponry.  
"What the Hell were you thinking?"

 

"Eh!"  
Your son, definitely part demon spawn, complained loudly about the way he was being treated and tried to wriggle out of your grasp, back to the shiny, sharp toys on the floor.

 

"I'm just letting him get used to weapons is all," Dante shrugged. "See, he likes them! Just like his daddy, don't you boy?"  
With that, he got up and made a face at the child, causing a small giggle before your son grew quiet and pensive, apparently deciding whether he was still upset or not.

 

"No," you said.

 

"What do you mean, no? Come on, they're not gonna hurt him! You think I would hurt him?"  
He held up his hands and your son mirrored the gesture.

"Huhi?" the kid said, throwing up his arms.

 

"They're Weapons, Dante! They're meant to hurt. That's the whole point of them," you hissed.

 

"I wasn't gonna let him maul himself, babe", Dante pouted.   
"I'm just saying it's a good idea to figure out his talents, you know. See how good he can deal with stuff. You never know when he's gonna need it."

 

"He's two! You can't just introduce a toddler to demon grade weaponry and hope he'll figure it out, what is wrong with to you?" you said, distracted mildly by the fact that your son kept trying to play with the buttons on Dante's shirt.

 

"But he's not a regular toddler though," Dante he pointed out, leaning down to boop the boy's nose, which earned him a confused blink.   
"He's at least part demon. And we're made of hardy stuff, aren't we, squirt? Just like your uncle Nero."

 

"You're making a lot of assumptions, there, hun", you said. "For all I know demon genes are recessive, you could really hurt him."

 

"Well we won't know unless we find out, now will we," Dante grinned, and you could swear there was entirely too much danger in that smile.

 

"Dante, you are not experimenting on Our Child with knives, what the actual fuck."

 

"Oy, don't swear in front of him," Dante frowned. "Besides, I was kidding, no one is going to hurt my boy, certainly not me."

 

 "Look, Dante, I…"

 

"Fuck!" your child shouted, with the glee of a toddler that just learned a new word and was going to use it at every opportunity for six days straight.

 

"See?" Dante said, his face cracking into a wide grin. "Now look what you did."

 

You closed your eyes and sighed.  
"Dante, I swear to god."  
 

A warm hand rested on your shoulder, and you felt his lips, briefly, on your forehead.  
"We'll be fine", his low voice said near your ear.   
"You can go to work and ace your big meeting thing, and when you come back, we'll both be perfectly healthy and safe and all that. I'll even bathe him."

 

A little reluctantly, you handed the boy over.  
"No knives, ok?" you said, locking eyes with your lover. "No sharp implements of any kind. Promise me."

 

"Fine, I promise", Dante said. "Now get going, I got this."  
He gave you one of his trademark grins, and then held up the child.  
"Give mommy a kiss for good luck?"

 

"Fuck," the kid smiled, and he dutifully leaned over.  
With a groan, you kissed the crown of his head, and the cheek of the man holding him. Then you turned and grabbed your coat.

 

"Sorry little guy, I guess Rebellion is for another day," you heard Dante say as you walked out, "so let me introduce you to Cerberus. These are nunchucks!'

"Fucks!" the boy replied enthusiastically, right before the front door slammed shut.

 

 

 


End file.
